I’m trying to declare a moratorium on the phrase ‘uh-oh’. Sitting here in the kitchen, I just heard a plaintive ‘Uh-Oh!’ from the living room. After launching out of my chair, jumping into my shoes, grabbing the car keys, and picking up the giant bag, I asked, “Uh-oh What?”.
“The average American eats 137 sandwiches each year.”
Which is a fascinating statistic, no doubt. And a tally which I easily surpass in the first quarter of any given year. But it does not, I submit, warrant an ‘uh-oh’, which term should forthwith be reserved for pregnancy-ending developments, dropped babies, scalded skin, or imminent death, if you please.